Author and legendary conservationist Lawrence Anthony died March 2. His
family tells of a solemn procession of Elephants that defies human
explanation.

For 12 hours, two herds of wild South African elephants slowly made their
way through the Zululand bush until they reached the house of late author
Lawrence Anthony, the conservationist who saved their lives. The formerly
violent, rogue elephants, destined to be shot a few years ago as pests, were
rescued and rehabilitated by Anthony, who had grown up in the bush and was
known as the "Elephant Whisperer."

For two days the herds loitered at Anthony's rural compound on the vast
Thula Thula game reserve in the South African KwaZulu – to say good-bye to
the man they loved. But how did they know he had died? Known for his unique
ability to calm traumatized elephants, Anthony had become a legend. He is
the author of three books, Babylon Ark, detailing his efforts to rescue the
animals at Baghdad Zoo during the Iraqi war, the forthcoming The Last
Rhinos, and his bestselling The Elephant Whisperer.

There are two elephant herds at Thula Thula. According to his son Dylan,
both arrived at the Anthony family compound shortly after Anthony's death.
"They had not visited the house for a year and a half and it must have taken
them about 12 hours to make the journey," Dylan is quoted in various local
news accounts. "The first herd arrived on Sunday and the second herd, a day
later. They all hung around for about two days before making their way back
into the bush." Elephants have long been known to mourn their dead. In
India, baby elephants often are raised with a boy who will be their lifelong
"mahout." The pair develop legendary bonds – and it is not uncommon for one
to waste away without a will to live after the death of the other.

A line of elephants approaching the Anthony house (Photo courtesy of the
Anthony family)But these are wild elephants in the 21st century, not some
Rudyard Kipling novel. The first herd to arrive at Thula Thula several years
ago were violent. They hated humans. Anthony found himself fighting a
desperate battle for their survival and their trust, which he detailed in
The Elephant Whisperer: "It was 4:45 a.m. and I was standing in front of
Nana, an enraged wild elephant, pleading with her in desperation. Both our
lives depended on it. The only thing separating us was an 8,000-volt
electric fence that she was preparing to flatten and make her escape."Nana,
the matriarch of her herd, tensed her enormous frame and flared her
ears." 'Don't do it, Nana,' I said, as calmly as I could. She stood there,
motionless but tense. The rest of the herd froze." 'This is your home now,' I
continued. 'Please don't do it, girl. 'I felt her eyes boring into me.

Anthony, Nana and calf (Photo courtesy of the Anthony family)"'They'll
kill you all if you break out. This is your home now. You have no need to
run any more.'"Suddenly, the absurdity of the situation struck me," Anthony
writes. "Here I was in pitch darkness, talking to a wild female elephant
with a baby, the most dangerous possible combination, as if we were having a
friendly chat. But I meant every word. 'You will all die if you go. Stay
here. I will be here with you and it's a good place.'"She took another step
forward. I could see her tense up again, preparing to snap the electric wire
and be out, the rest of the herd smashing after her in a flash."I was in
their path, and would only have seconds to scramble out of their way and
climb the nearest tree. I wondered if I would be fast enough to avoid being
trampled. Possibly not."Then something happened between Nana and me, some
tiny spark of recognition, flaring for the briefest of moments. Then it was
gone. Nana turned and melted into the bush. The rest of the herd followed. I
couldn't explain what had happened between us, but it gave me the first
glimmer of hope since the elephants had first thundered into my life."

Elephants gathering at the Anthony home (Photo courtesy of the Anthony
family)It had all started several weeks earlier with a phone call from an
elephant welfare organization. Would Anthony be interested in adopting a
problem herd of wild elephants? They lived on a game reserve 600 miles away
and were "troublesome," recalled Anthony."They had a tendency to break out
of reserves and the owners wanted to get rid of them fast. If we didn't take
them, they would be shot." The woman explained, 'The matriarch is an amazing
escape artist and has worked out how to break through electric fences. She
just twists the wire around her tusks until it snaps, or takes the pain and
smashes through.' "'Why me?' I asked." 'I've heard you have a way with
animals. You're right for them. Or maybe they're right for you.'"What
followed was heart-breaking. One of the females and her baby were shot and
killed in the round-up, trying to evade capture.

The French version of "The Elephant Whisperer" "When they arrived, they
were thumping the inside of the trailer like a gigantic drum. We sedated
them with a pole-sized syringe, and once they had calmed down, the door slid
open and the matriarch emerged, followed by her baby bull, three females and
an 11-year-old bull." Last off was the 15-year-old son of the dead mother.
"He stared at us," writes Anthony, "flared his ears and with a trumpet of
rage, charged, pulling up just short of the fence in front of us."His mother
and baby sister had been shot before his eyes, and here he was, just a
teenager, defending his herd. David, my head ranger, named him Mnumzane,
which in Zulu means 'Sir.' We christened the matriarch Nana, and the second
female-in-command, the most feisty, Frankie, after my wife."We had erected a
giant enclosure within the reserve to keep them safe until they became calm
enough to move out into the reserve proper."Nana gathered her clan, loped up
to the fence and stretched out her trunk, touching the electric wires. The
8,000-volt charge sent a jolt shuddering through her bulk. She backed off.
Then, with her family in tow, she strode the entire perimeter of the
enclosure, pointing her trunk at the wire to check for vibrations from the
electric current.

"As I went to bed that night, I noticed the elephants lining up along the
fence, facing out towards their former home. It looked ominous. I was woken
several hours later by one of the reserve's rangers, shouting, 'The
elephants have gone! They've broken out!' The two adult elephants had worked
as a team to fell a tree, smashing it onto the electric fence and then
charging out of the enclosure."I scrambled together a search party and
we raced to the border of the game reserve, but we were too late. The fence
was down and the animals had broken out.

"They had somehow found the
generator that powered the electric fence around the reserve. After
trampling it like a tin can, they had pulled the concrete-embedded fence
posts out of the ground like matchsticks, and headed north."

The
reserve staff chased them – but had competition.

"We met a group of
locals carrying large caliber rifles, who claimed the elephants were 'fair
game' now. On our radios we heard the wildlife authorities were issuing
elephant rifles to staff. It was now a simple race against time."Anthony
managed to get the herd back onto Thula Thula property, but problems had
just begun:

"Their bid for freedom had, if anything, increased their resentment at
being kept in captivity. Nana watched my every move, hostility seeping from
every pore, her family behind her. There was no doubt that sooner or later
they were going to make another break for freedom.

"Then, in a flash,
came the answer. I would live with the herd. To save their lives, I would
stay with them, feed them, talk to them. But, most importantly, be with them
day and night. We all had to get to know each other."

It worked, as
the book describes in detail, notes the London Daily Mail newspaper.

Anthony was later offered another troubled elephant – one that was all alone
because the rest of her herd had been shot or sold, and which feared humans.
He had to start the process all over again.

And as his reputation
spread, more "troublesome" elephants were brought to Thula Thula.

So, how after Anthony's death, did the reserve's elephants — grazing
miles away in distant parts of the park — know?

"A good man died
suddenly," says Rabbi Leila Gal Berner, Ph.D., "and from miles and miles
away, two herds of elephants, sensing that they had lost a beloved human
friend, moved in a solemn, almost 'funereal' procession to make a call on
the bereaved family at the deceased man's home."

"If there ever were a time, when we can truly sense the wondrous
'interconnectedness of all beings,' it is when we reflect on the elephants
of Thula Thula. A man's heart's stops, and hundreds of elephants' hearts are
grieving. This man's oh-so-abundantly loving heart offered healing to these
elephants, and now, they came to pay loving homage to their friend."

His sons say that their father was a remarkable man who lived his life to
the fullest and never looked back on any choices he made.

He leaves behind his wife Francoise, his two sons, Dylan and Jason, and
two grandsons, Ethan and Brogan.

This story has touched so many of us so very deeply that we have decided to
put a call out to all those who would like to salute this amazing man,
Lawrence Anthony. We thought that we might make a beautiful tribute to him
and invite you all to be part of it. If you would like to upload your
favourite elephant related photograph, poem, song, video or a few words of
your own. Please fill in the form below. We will create a project page with
all of your contributions and then turn them into a beautiful collection in
his honour to give to the family.